


Share My Silence

by Flames_and_Jade



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Budding Love, F/M, Musical References, NJO, Wartime Romance, dashing Jag, grumpy Jaina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7391719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flames_and_Jade/pseuds/Flames_and_Jade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the New Jedi Order, just before the Campaign of Borleias (during Rebel Stand). Jaina is having a bad day, and just wants an hour alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Share My Silence

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I've only ever written L/M (eek!) So...I decided to try my hand at something else. Originally I was going to just have this feature Jaina. But it evolved and became what it is now. Of all the characters in the EU, Jaina (after Mara) I feel like I have the most connection with (minus the whole pilot thing--I'm afraid of flying!). So I wanted to give writing her a shot ;)

Jaina stomped down the west corridor, not caring if it was behavior unbecoming of a Goddess. Blowing her bangs out her eyes again she continued on her way, fuming—she was never letting anyone “trim” her hair again, no matter how much they said they were an expert. She half hoped someone eventually would have the gall to not scurry out of her way as everyone was presently doing. Yelling at someone would do her a galaxy of good right now.

Not that they would deserve it, she reflected. It was unlike her to let her anger move her to such a thing as abandoning her scheduled “goddess shift” with Piggy…but today was the day, she supposed. Jaina Solo needed a. Kriffing. Break. From. Everyone. 

Well…her brain reminded her…not everyone.

Swiping at her bangs, she shrugged mentally. There was one person that she wouldn’t mind seeing. But that would be about as likely as a popsicle stand on Hoth selling out of merchandise. Nevertheless, her mind still drifted to dark hair marred only by the white lock that cut its way through like a lightning bolt. How soft that hair had been, when she had touched it. The dark uniform, fitting trimly and oh so tightly to a compact form that somehow didn’t make her feel too small or too large. A smile began to settle on her lips as she thought…

Then she collided with Kyp Durron. 

“In the name of all—“ she stumbled backwards from the impact, then saw who it was. “KYP!!” His name flew from her mouth, an angry bellow that ricocheted off the suddenly empty corridor. “How about you watch where you’re going, you lumbering sack of—“

“Whoa, whoa.” The Jedi Master held his hands up in a gesture that was half conciliatory, half defensive. “Let’s not start calling names, your worshipfulness.” 

A spike drove through Jaina’s heart, as her mind drifted back in an instant to all the times she had heard her father jokingly say that to her mother. She hadn’t heard him use it since the war had started…and for a moment she was lost in a wave of longing for those times. To all be crowded around the table, or in the Falcon headed off on yet another adventure. To have Anakin and Chewbacca back.

Like a rubberized band snapping back when it had been stretched too far, she was jolted back into the present as the pain of Anakin’s loss struck her like a cannonbolt. She glared at Kyp with murderous rage and allowed her pain to leak into the Force, and she saw his confident exterior crack, just a little, under the wordless vitriol she was hurling at him. 

“Sorry, Jaina. I’ll…look where I’m going next time.” His words held no teasing edge now…just something that was between concern and indifference, and she wondered if she should be angry or thankful. But with that, he backed away a few steps and then turned, heading down the corridor, leaving her alone once more.

With a huff, she turned on her heel and resumed her stomp towards her quarters. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed for just an hour. If the galaxy could just give her an hour with nobody needing her, no crisis that only she could fix, no act to put on. She just wanted silence in her own mind, to mediate or listen to her favorite orchestral suite she had recently found…

Reaching her door, she punched in her key code with more force than was probably necessary, but it slid open smoothly. Not even bothering to wait for it to shut behind her, she began shedding objects—her gun belt she discarded in front of the door, her jacket next. She kicked off a boot and waited for the satisfying thud as it hit the wall…

Instead there was a soft thump. 

She looked up and saw Jagged Fel sitting on the shipping crate she used as a makeshift desk/table. He was grinning—as much as Jag ever grinned—and held her boot like a prize.

“If I had known you were going to challenge me to a reflex contest, I would have come better prepared.”

For a long moment she starred at him, a thousand thoughts running through her head at once, to include wondering how he had gotten in, how she hadn’t sensed him, who in the nine hells had given him her door combo, and why he had to be so handsome.

All that flew away as he quickly stood, dropped the boot and took her in his arms. He was that curious combination of firm and soft that puzzled and delighted her. His uniform was scratchy against her cheek, and she laughed in her head to think she was making a face-sized wrinkle in his starched masterpiece. But more than anything, she breathed a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods had allowed her to meet him. He smelled of mint, and aftershave, and something she could never identify but instantly knew to be Jag. She felt some of the tension around her heart uncoil as he held her close.

“So. What are you doing here, besides catching my footwear?” She gave him an impish grin when she finally pulled away. 

“We landed early, so I decided it was an opportune time to see how you were. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been able to find you without your entourage.” 

She rolled her eyes and sighed, blowing her bangs out of the way for what seemed the thousandth time. “Tell me about it. Being a goddess isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

He gave her a imperious look, but she could see the edge of humor in his eyes. “Really? One would think exactly the opposite. Perhaps you are not using your powers to their fullest potential.” 

Rolling her eyes, she sat on the bed and pulled off her other boot. “Well, when you ascend and take your rightful place as Yun-Whatever, you can tell me what I’m doing wrong.” 

Jag smiled and made a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure I wouldn’t fill the role half as well.” 

“I guess it just takes someone special to be an fantastic pilot and a deity.” She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, hands hanging between her legs. Blowing her bangs out of her eyes again she looked at him. “So.”

“So…what were your plans before I interrupted them so rudely?” His voice had a tinge of uncertainty now that seemed out of place from his usual calm. 

She smiled, and gave him a wry grin. “You’re an interruption I’m can tolerate. Honestly, I just wanted some time to relax. Just an hour to listen to this symphony I found on a old data pad. It seems like such a simple thing, you know? I remember, before the war, my mom used to always have music playing in our place. Now…you never hear it anymore.” 

His eyes held sadness, but also something else—something that approached courage, resolve. “The comfort is that it still exists. To me, that seems to be something worth fighting to safeguard.”

With a grateful smile, she looked up at him. Green eyes met hers with a pull that felt almost like the tide—sure and unchanging. “You always seem to know just what to say.”

Jag smiled back, and she saw warmth and an invitation behind all the ice in his eyes. He held his hand out, and she placed her small one into his. He pressed a kiss to it formally, eyes never leaving hers. “May I join you for your silence and symphony?”

 

She gave him the first smile that felt genuine in days. “I’d be glad to share my silence with you.”


End file.
